Part 23 (2/2)

Maid Sally made no mistake that time.

Raising her arm, she gave the man's horse a cut across his face, which set him jumping madly, putting the others into a panic also.

At the same moment, Sally cried in Hotspur's ear, ”Go on, boy! Now, now, Hotspur, s.h.!.+ s.h.!.+” And she patted his neck quickly but gently and pressed a foot against his side.

With one leap forward, Hotspur was off on a hot race that Sally could not control. She lay along his back, rolling from side to side, as Hotspur, his fierce blood now up, tore by bushes, trees, pounded over a little bridge, dashed up one hill, down another, and only yielded to Sally's soft calls as they came to a sleeping village and a clock struck three.

”I really haven't been one mite afraid,” said the plucky maiden.

In another hour she felt that she ought to be near Farmer Hinds's. And she was glad to see a yoke of oxen lumbering along, a great covered wagon behind them. Judging by his appearance, a colored man walked beside them.

Furniture was piled in the wagon, and Sally easily guessed that a family were about to move, and a servant had been sent on before daybreak with some of the furniture.

”I say, Uncle,” she called, pleasantly, ”whar dat man Hinds have his farm?”

”Whar you get dat hoss?” was the reply.

”Whar dat Hinds live?” cried Sally.

”You bettah get off'n dat hoss,” said the provoking old man.

A little thin, piping voice, somewhere between the truck in the wagon, suddenly arose:

”Just you keep right on, and purty soon you come to a hill, then a meet'n'-house, then a piece of river paff, and the Hindses farmlands lies right ahead in the woods.”

Again it was a long stretch and a lonely way, but morning had dawned when Sally and her brave steed reached a deep dell close to the Hinds farmlands.

Here she tied Hotspur by the bridle, and finding long saplings, she twisted them into the bridle on the other side and so made the horse fast as she could to a stout but slim tree.

Then she felt that the hardest part of all was before her.

”You must be brave,” said her Fairy. ”You are tired, and excited, but wide awake. Make no mistakes. Remember, Hotspur is close by. The Fairy Prince may yet reach his friends in good time. But beware. He is no doubt a prisoner. Be sharp!”

CHAPTER XX.

IN CAMPAIGN

Sally's soft tread was heard only by a great dog who rushed out as she crept toward the hay sheds at the Hinds farmlands.

She easily made friends with the dog, who trotted quietly away after being patted and quieted.

It was plain that some of the house servants were already astir, but Sally kept out of sight as best she could.

One thing she did that pleased her greatly.

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